False Dawn

Prologue

The sound was driving him insane. There was nothing, or at least nothing he had encountered, that was half as annoying as those horrid time-telling mechanisms. The only thing that came relatively close was the women who live in this infernal town. It seemed like it was their job, or sport, to talk incessantly and do nothing that might be considered productive. He thought for a moment of taking care of that problem but then thought better of it. While his job was indeed to cause chaos, that was not the way that he intended to do it; perhaps some other time. Instead, he would go after the Patriarch of Asmanthre. As a Mortalitrar, he would prefer to go after the king himself, but a king was a little of a lofty target at the moment. He would settle for a simple magistrate. The magistrate was relatively well liked, although there were some surprisingly cruel rumours floating around that he wasn’t as kind as he seemed. Out in public he was always seen being a kindly man, taking care of the poor and promoting equality and justice but no one knew what happened when he returned to the castle.











                There was a knock at the door. The man turned and opened the door, prepared for almost anything. He was not expecting a regular maid, however.











                “Hello? How can I help you? I believe I paid for two nights, did I not?” He was running out of patience, fast.











                “Y-y-yes sir! I was just coming up to clean up your room for you.” She stammered.











He waved her in gruffly, ready with a dagger in his right hand. The maid didn’t seem to be up to anything suspicious, but the man had been fooled by dumber people than her. She walked toward the bed of rushes, dragging the single blanket back over the rag-tag mattress. As her hands moved in odd patterns, the man quietly and quickly slipped his dagger from its hidden sheath into his hand. The maid continued on, oblivious. Within a few minutes, she had cleaned most of the room, and moved toward the wardrobe.











                “Don’t worry about that, it doesn’t need to be cleaned.” The man said, grabbing the maid’s arm.











                “Oh it’s ok sir! I don’t mind doing a little of extra work. The innkeeper says that if we go the extra mile every day, people are sure to come back!” The man jumped at her and spun her around roughly.











                “I said no!” By this point the man was surprised that no one had come running into the room to see what was wrong. He assumed that this kind of thing must happen quite often.











                The maid tore out of his grip, growing frantic. “Sir! I can’t see what could possibly be wrong with me cleaning the wardrobe! It’s only courteous for me to do so.”











                “And I thought that it was only courteous to respect paying customers at this inn. I can see that I was wrong in that assumption. Maybe I should talk to the innkeeper...” He spoke down to her, treating as someone inferior to him, which he of course believed was the truth. She seemed like an uncouth, uneducated buffoon who could only get a minor job working at a run-down inn. She seemed as innocent as anyone could possibly be.











                “No sir, please don’t do that. I’m sorry for having been so rude. I should have noticed that a man of your stature and composure would want some privacy.” Her eyes fluttered, as she batted her eyelashes at him. The man simply narrowed his eyes. Common folk didn’t usually say things like “stature” and “composure”. They usually ran along the lines of “the way you walk” or “the way you stand straight”.  Could it be she had served some passing noble and had heard his or her babble?











                “Yes, well, be more careful next time. We wouldn’t want anyone to have an accident in this fine inn now would we?” He released the grip he kept on her arm, yet he transferred the dagger to his left hand while she had her back turned. He turned around to go check over the maid’s work throughout the rest of the room. As he started looking over the bed he heard a door open. The man spun around sharply, expecting the worst. The maid had opened the wardrobe while he wasn’t looking and had started looking through it as fast as she could. As she heard him turn, she turned her head and her eyes widened as she saw him starting to approach her. Although it was a small room, she still had time to spin around and pull out a mean looking dagger. She smiled sinisterly and started matching the man’s steps, walking towards him as he walked towards her.











                “I didn’t want to have to do this, but it seems I’ll have to kill you to be able to look through that wardrobe. You’re well-dressed so you probably have tons of gold stashed away somewhere in there.” The ex-maid whistled sharply and two large men broke through the door, each carrying a sword. One of them tossed an extra one to the woman, who caught it expertly. The man smiled wryly, it appeared that not everything was as it seemed.











                Both the woman and the men stopped for a second as they noticed his smile. The man shot his right hand out to his side, next to his hip and closed his eyes. In his left, he began idly flipping the dagger between his fingers. The thieves, thinking this was an act of defeat, charged at him, just as something appeared in the man’s hand.











                Nothing but a moment was all it took for the man’s prized weapon to appear in his hand. Most would call it a thing of evil, but he believed it to be a thing of beauty. It was dark, somehow darker than the night itself. It seemed to be made of everything and yet nothing at all. And it shined, all the while without shining. As a Mortalitrar, the man was entitled to a Jurgein; a sword one could argue was without equal. It had the same sharpness of steel yet seemed to have the durability of a city wall. And, it had another little surprise. One, the thieves were about to learn. And you could only learn this lesson once.











                The man opened his eyes and saw that the three thieves were frozen in what appeared to be terror. Only the stories had told them of the existence of Jurgeins, as there were only three. Two for the two Mortalitrars and one for the head of their order, named Addonex.











                The thieves eventually re-gathered their courage and continued their charge toward the man. He readied his dagger and blade, and then entered his stance, his sword leading. As the thieves got close, he began to move.











                Out of nowhere, the man spun, almost elegantly, both weapons whistling through the air. The dagger was, surprisingly, parried by one of the big men, whereas the blade just missed the ducking woman.  He wasn’t surprised about the woman. The way she carried herself with her weapons clearly showed that she was the most proficient out of them all. The third man, however, was clearly the least of a threat. He was massive, and could probably knock someone 10 feet with the swing of his fist, but he was clearly there just to intimidate people into behaving. The man charged him first.











                As the man charged the big brute, he swung both his weapons to his left and right, to parry the incoming strikes from the other two thieves. He then calmly ducked as the giant swung his two-handed sword in a horizontal strike that would have cleaved him in half. He would have made a fantastic butcher. The Mortalitrar made to bring his dagger to bear and drive it at the man, but he had underestimated his foe. The mountain of a man quickly and deftly side-stepped out of the way and brought his sword around for a back-hand swipe. Diving out of the way, the predator-turned-prey somersaulted over the bed and came to rest on his feet, facing the thieves. He quickly observed his surroundings and saw that there was nothing he could use to distract his foe, save the rushes of the bed, which he now saw were soaked through, probably done by the woman in preparation. He also heard the noise coming from the common room downstairs and knew that they would have heard by now. He decided that he was going to have a little talk with the innkeeper after he was done. Finally turning back toward the thieves, he noticed that they approached him much more warily, noticing, perhaps for the first time, that they were not fighting an untrained man.That, of course, made their resolve all the harder. Trained men always had higher wages, so they believed that he would have more gold than a normal noble. Gathering their courage again, they charged at him.











                He eyed the biggest man, choosing him to once more be his target. He, almost casually, put a foot on his bed and launched himself into the air, somersaulting over the massive mountain of a man. Landing on his feet, he wasted no time and turned around as fast as he could. The big man was, once again, faster. The Mortalitrar jumped over the whistling sword and stabbed with his blade at the man. Knowing the thief had no protection made him expect the result that he got. The man’s eyes lost all colour and life, as his very soul was sucked out of his body and drawn into the sword. It appeared as if black flames had shown up then promptly vanished. The Mortalitrar smiled in amusement as he saw that the other two thieves were frozen in sheer terror. He would make short work of them. That’s what he thought anyway.











                He was just in time to duck to avoid a whistling throwing knife as it zoomed right past where his neck was. Feeling ashamed that he had been so overconfident, the man spun and stood straight, presenting a clear target to the thieves. The other man charged and, without ever looking away from the woman’s eyes, the Mortalitrar calmly tripped him up with his right foot and sent his blade through the man, drawing the thief’s soul into his sword. All throughout, the woman never flinched. The Mortalitrar looked at her and realized that he wasn’t facing a normal petty thief. It seemed likely that she had hired those other two guys as beaters just to draw his attention. It was probably as much a surprise to her as it was to him at how well the biggest man had fought. Then a realization struck him, the woman never had seemed as surprised or stunned at the appearance of the Jurgein. It had always been just enough to be convincing.











                The woman smiled slyly “Well now, I guess it’s just you and me. Tell me, when I kill you, do I get to keep the Jurgein? I find it quite beautiful.”











                The man lost his cool then, starting quite visibly. The woman knew the name of the sword. Very few people were privy to that kind of knowledge. She therefore knew that he was a Mortalitrar and knew what he was capable of. “Tell me, who are you?” He asked, his nerves fraying. He quietly drew another breath and steadied himself.











                “Someone who was sent to kill you. I find that that is all you need to know.” She said “Oh, except this, you may want to know this.” She twisted her sword and brought it into the light. The reflection of it came off pure green, like the colour of a perfect emerald.  It was made of Adamantium, the most powerful metal in existence. It was the only worldly thing that could be more durable than a Jurgein.











                The man decided to leave off on the spells he had put on his voice. “Where did you get a blade of that quality?” The man’s voice hadn’t changed all that much after he released the spells, but it sounded as if it had become purely evil. With it, he sounded as if his voice was the sound of thunder, or the sound of a cavalry charge on a rocky plain. It was majestic and malefic all at once.











                Again, the woman never flinched. The man’s eyes widened, despite himself. How was it, that she knew everything about him? Who, or what, did she work for?











                “Let’s just say that I have some employers, who might want to get their hands on your Jurgein. And they are willing to do just about anything to get it. So, I ask again, does the Jurgein stay or disappear when I kill you?”











                “I don’t know” the man answered honestly. “I’ve never been killed before and had the opportunity to stay around and see if it stayed.”











                The woman smiled, and almost laughed. “Well then, I guess we should find out, shouldn’t we?”











                “I’ll be honest with you, I’d rather not. I like my life, although others may not like my life. But, I guess they will just need to deal with it.” He smiled, showing his teeth.











                “Ready to face your worst nightmare?” the woman asked, a smirk rapidly growing on her face.











                The man chuckled, almost as if enjoying a private joke. “I am my own worst nightmare and my best dream.” The woman did freeze at that, but only for a moment. Had it not been for the man’s trained eyes, he would never have caught it. The woman’s eyes narrowed and her blade came up, ready to guard against just about anything. Anything, that is, except magic.











                The man extended his right arm, pointing his blade toward the woman. He mumbled quietly under his breath, as if chanting. Soon enough, the once-definite edges to the sword started to blur. It appeared as if the blade itself was losing control over its own power. The woman started to back away, unsure of what was happening. Suddenly, with a shout from the man, a blast of pure darkness streaked out toward the woman, moving with clearly malevolent intent.











                It fizzled out against some unseen ward on the woman. It had no effect whatsoever.











                The woman straightened out again, and readied her sword. Her confidence seemed to be bolstered from the obvious effectiveness of whatever wizardly aid she had received prior. The man only chuckled.











                “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to actually have to work to kill people? It would be so much simpler if you would just DIE!” He said the last in a shout, one so powerful that it knocked a picture off the nearby wall. The woman took a step back, clearly shaken by the obvious display of power.











                The Mortalitrar started moving before the woman could steady herself. He charged at her, his blade leading, and leapt. The surprising thing was that he hadn’t leapt at her. Rather, he leapt at the bed and used one of the posts as a springboard of sorts. Spinning in mid-air he came around and swiped horizontally with his blade, the dagger quickly following. Except the woman wasn’t even there anymore. He turned rapidly, seeking out his opponent, and was just in time to parry a quick thrust from the woman. Not bothering with his usual style, he quickly retracted his sword arm and lunged out with his dagger. It never even came close to the woman as she quickly parried with her sword, her arm seeming to move faster than was possible. She quickly spun around, following and using the momentum, to come in with a powerful slash that would have cut him open from shoulder to hip, had he not brought up his own blade to deflect it harmlessly to the side. The woman never even attempted to regain her balance, instead falling into a roll back toward the bed and coming back up, facing the man, with her sword poised in front of her. For the first time in his life, the man considered backing out of this fight. He knew he could win, but was it worth it? It would probably cost him the opportunity to kill the magistrate. He smiled. An Adamantium blade was worth well more than that fool’s life. He readied his sword and dagger, but paused when he heard a noise.











                A large amount of crashing and stomping could be heard. It was almost as if a hundred people were coming up the stairs at the same time to see what was going on. Instead, in burst a relatively short fellow, but quite stout, in long, flowing robes. He quickly took in the situation, raised his hands, and from them, shot small, if not painful, bolts of lightning toward the Mortalitrar.











                In an instant, the Mortalitrar dispelled his blade and sheathed his dagger. He turned to face the woman, but more importantly, the window behind her. He knew that it would bring him out into an alley, one that, when followed, would lead him to the back entrance to the magistrate’s palace. He ran toward her, accepting a few small, stinging hits from the bolts from the wizard, and launched a magical assault of his own. His, however, were not aimed toward the woman. In order for his spell not to be affected by the woman’s wards, he launched it around her instead. What it was, was a concussive blast, strong enough to tear a house from its foundation. For all intents and purposes, that is what it did. The woman went flying into the wall and slumped down, clearly unconscious and bleeding from several small cuts on her head. The man drove through the window and plummeted in a free-fall toward the ground below.Quickly accessing his magic, he managed to counter the fall and come down lightly, and at a run. Of course, as is with all Mortalitrar magic, every living thing around him died. This did not apply to larger living beings such as humans or even a dog. However, it was plenty to kill the grass on the ground around him and the flowers upstairs in his room, or what was left of it. He quickly and quietly ran on deeper into the alley, landing on the balls of his feet instead of the heels, so as to make less sound.











                He grinned when he heard the wizard float down behind him, landing in the dead-zone that the Mortalitrar had just created. He heard a snort of disgust and his grin widened. Turning quickly, the Mortalitrar pointed his right hand toward the wizard and once again accessed his magic. He created an opaque wall of darkness, about as dark as the night. There was nothing special to the wall, no traps, no gimmicks and it wasn’t even solid. The wizard could have simply walked right through it. But the Mortalitrar had faced many men such as this wizard and knew that he would spend valuable minutes scanning and searching that wall for traps. He quickly turned around and continued his mad dash toward the wall that went around the palace. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small pin. Quickly whispering a key-word, he opened up what turned out to be an item that had its own magical dimension inside of it. It was an extremely rare commodity that he had managed to acquire before undertaking his current mission. At the moment, he was extremely glad that he had. He rapidly pulled out a grappling hook, closed back up and replaced the pin, and set the hook to spinning. Within moments, he had it hooked snugly on the crenelations at the top of the wall and had started climbing it.











                Unfortunately, at that moment, the wizard had decided that there was indeed nothing special about the wall of darkness. He confidently stepped through and immediately began reaching in and accessing his magic. In a split second, another opaque wall of darkness had appeared before him, but this time he was not deterred. He finished casting and launched a highly volatile fireball toward where he had last seen the Mortalitrar.











                The Mortalitrar cringed, knowing that he had to find some way to stop that fireball. He immediately came up with a solution. He once again drew out the magical pin and set it to expanding. When he judged it large enough, he threw it toward the fireball. It absorbed the fireball and continued on through even the wall of darkness. The Mortalitrar heard a grunt and easily surmised what had happened. The pin had gone through the wall of darkness and had absorbed the wizard. All this had happened in a matter of seconds.











                He turned back to his task and continued climbing up the wall. Coming up to the top of the wall, he froze, hearing voices. He pushed himself against the wall, slowing his breathing and being as quiet as he could. He was already regretting having lost that pin. Straining against gravity itself, the man hung on and listened to the guards have a quick conversation, before continuing on their rounds. He considered killing them but decided that he didn’t want to take the risk that someone might hear the fight. As the sounds of the footsteps faded, the man heaved himself over the wall and rolled to his feet. He silently slid his dagger out of its sheath and started to stalk along the wall, making for a secluded looking courtyard. As the day was getting on, he used the shadows created by the large crenellations to hide him. He used a slight bit of magic to muffle his footsteps and breathing.











                Arriving at the area that held the courtyard, he quickly jumped off the wall. Again using his magic, he slowed himself down enough so that he didn’t make any loud noises when he landed. However, it also killed the grass and plants in the gardens nearby. He sincerely hoped no one would stumble upon this garden as he was going about his business. Heading toward the nearby open door, he swiftly moved out of the gardened area into the courtyard itself. Looking around, he saw four guards lounging around, obviously off duty for now. Either that, or just shirking that duty. The man closed his eyes and summoned his blade.











                Trying to keep to the shadows to avoid being seen, he crept up towards the four guards. It was his hope that he could kill all four without any of them sounding the alarm. He sprinted into the open, hoping to close the ground between him and the guards before they saw him. Luck was with him. The guards, playing dice, didn’t see him until it was too late. Jumping into the middle of them, disrupting the dice game, he spun clockwise with his sword outstretched. Not only did he cleanly decapitate all four in a matter of seconds, but he stole their souls as well. Little did most people know, the power of the Mortalitrars actually came from the souls they stole. The more souls they had, the stronger their power. The strength of every individual soul also counted. For example, if he were to take the soul of a willful king, it would grant him more power than that of a cowardly slave.Leaving the bodies where they fell, the man almost casually walked toward the balcony he saw almost directly ahead. After long days of scouting and staking out the mansion, he knew every entrance to the bedchambers of the magistrate. Nearing the balcony he broke into a run toward one of the two nearby trees. Quickly accessing his magic, he leaped up and, making himself lighter with his magic, was able to jump from the tree up onto the balcony. Of course, the tree died and with the force of the man jumping on it, caused it to start to collapse. The man’s entrance into the bedchamber was accompanied by the loud crash of the ancient tree hitting the ground.











                Across the room, sitting on a stool, sat the magistrate. On his lap sat a young boy, presumably his nephew who was said to be staying with him after his father had passed on. The man walked over toward the door and sealed it with magic. Turning back toward the magistrate, the man pointed his Jurgein toward him.











                “Your time has come magistrate. Your term has finished. Set down the boy and face your end with courage.”











                The magistrate’s face drained but he didn’t move.











                “No. It can’t be. Everyone loves me. No one would want to kill me. No one has any reason to do so!”











                “Chaos needs no reason. Chaos is the absence of reason. Chaos is anathema to reason. Do you truly believe that hiding behind that boy will save you? Do you really believe that giving false charity will save you? You are a fool. Stand and be destroyed.”











                Surprisingly enough, the magistrate did stand. He brandished his nephew in front of the Mortalitrar. “Please sir, take my nephew instead! He has nothing of value to give! His parents are dead so no one will miss him. Please, just leave me with my life. Do not take me. Take him instead.”











                The man smirked in absolute disgust. Children were held in the highest regard all around the world. Even by the order of the Mortalitrars. What being could possibly be more chaotic than a young child?











                “You are a fool if you believe that I would strike down this child instead of you. You are the target, not the child. Perhaps one day I will kill the child as well, but for today, I come only for you.”











                The Magistrate sputtered and began panicking. He dropped his nephew and ran toward the corner. Turning around, he grabbed his rapier from a nearby stand and brandished it. “You know that I am known as a famous duelist and a great swordsman. Even with your blade of night, you can’t truly defeat me.” The Magistrate sneered, truly believing himself to be invincible.











                The now quite well revealed assassin drew his dagger and took his stance, sword leading. The magistrate, believing himself to be superior, charged the assassin. The first three rapid thrusts were almost casually blocked by the assassin, who blocked them with merely his dagger. As the magistrate lunged yet again, he brought his dagger up and caught the rapier’s blade on the crossguard. Swinging his left arm out wide, he sent the rapier whistling through the air to clatter on the floor. The assassin dropped his dagger and grabbed the magistrate’s neck and lifting him easily off his feet. As the magistrate sat there dangling, the assassin almost casually drove his black blade into the man’s chest, revelling in the way his very soul was torn out his body. Striding toward the balcony, he tossed him over the railing into a crowd of guards below. A grin broke out on his face when he heard the screams from the nearby women and the panicked shouts of the guards. What a good day it was. Never a dull moment. Now, he had an innkeeper to talk to.That night the town was in an uproar. Two thugs had been found dead in an inn, where the innkeeper was also found dead. The Magistrate was also dead, all of causes that no one had ever seen before. It was as if their very humanity had been drained. Strange circles where the grass and plants had died were found scattered around the mansion.